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I shake my head. “I’m getting bored of sitting here. I’d rather enjoy the dance floor.”
“Now that sounds better. Let’s go then.”
I follow him to the bar and stand close to his side, feeling the heat coming off him like a bonfire in a snowstorm.
It’s not a calculated move, but when Yakov sits down to chat with the bartender, I lean closer to him and wrap an arm around his. Damn, it’s a hard and firm bicep, delicious muscles hardening at my touch. I make a little purring sound, and he laughs, ordering two more drinks for us.
“You look like you’re enjoying the evening,” he says once we get our drinks. “How long have you been clubbing around here?”
“A while,” I confess. “This is sort of my place of work.”
“Work?” he asks me, looking surprised. “So, you a dancer or something?”
“I’m a talent scout,” I tell him. “I’m always on the lookout for new artists to sign to the label I work for.”
“Wow, that’s cool.” He casually gestures toward the exit. “Do you want to get some air?”
“I’d like that.”
The alcohol in my system is making me extra pliable. Yakov grins in a hungry manner and doesn’t hesitate to offer his arm for me to take. Instead of wrapping my hand around it, I slide my hand in his.
“I like this,” he growls, his breath tickling the top of my ear.
I smile at him seductively and let him lead us out through the back exit, his heat seeping into my skin.
When we finally come out to the alleyway behind the club, I turn to him and take in a deep breath. The freedom feels amazing.
“Feels good to get some fresh air,” I say, releasing another breath.
Yakov leans back against the wall and starts sliding his dark blue eyes from the top of my head all the way down my legs.
“That it does,” he mutters. “I’ve never tasted air this sweet.”
With a cocky smirk curling up his sensual mouth, Yakov watches me with a dangerous glint in his eyes.
“You should start to feel it any moment now,” he drawls with a wicked smile.
“Feel what?”
“The drug that I put in your drink, of course.”
Just as he finishes his confession, my legs buckle, and I fall to the ground. I try to curl into a ball, protecting my belly and my head.
“Shh,” he murmurs next to me, stroking my hair as if he were petting a dog. “No need to worry. Just relax. I promise to show you a much better time than your brother did my sister.”
Of course. Now I recognize him.
Yakov Gargarin.
Anastasiya’s older brother.
Suddenly, I lose control over my body, and I pass out.
Or at least that’s the only explanation I have for being abruptly surrounded by darkness.
THIRTEEN
NIKOLAI
